


Night Shift

by megastarstrike



Category: Subnautica (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Developing Friendships, Gen, my canon now, theyre all gonna be friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 23:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megastarstrike/pseuds/megastarstrike
Summary: In which after becoming a humble barista in an even humbler cafe, Ryley starts making a difference in people's lives.





	Night Shift

When Ozzy offered him a job at his cafe following a night of copious amounts of alcohol and crying about life, Ryley didn’t expect that it would be… well…

Like this.

Now, there was nothing wrong with the cafe itself. Although it was a bit smaller than Ryley was used to (“Cozy,” Ozzy had called it, crossing his arms defensively when Ryley brought it up), it was obviously well-maintained and smelled of fresh coffee beans. The table surfaces practically sparkled, and Ozzy had always had an eye for colors. The cafe was quite nice.

Here lied the problem: it was midnight, and there were only two customers—a man and a woman—left in the store (Ozzy hogged the day shift for obvious reasons). They entered together, yet they refused to make eye contact and sat on opposite ends of the store. The woman ordered a coffee with cream while the man ordered a mocha. They eyed each other’s drink choices. Ryley eyed both of them for consuming caffeine at midnight.

After a long,  _ long _ period of silence, the woman finally stood up, made such intense eye contact with Ryley he felt slightly uncomfortable, and spoke. “Okay. Let’s say you and your friend are working on a project together, one about drones. You decide to have a little fun and name the drone Albert. Give him a tad of a rebellious personality. Give him a synthetic voice. Harmless fun.”

“I almost took out a huge portion of the lab thanks to that drone,” the man interjected.

“His name is  _ Albert—” _

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Ryley said, wondering when he had gotten his license to run a daycare. Or nightcare, he supposed.

The two whirled on him faster than he burnt his hand on the coffeepot during his first day on the job.

Uh oh.

Think, Ryley, think! The woman made a drone named Albert for some god forsaken reason, and the man almost fucked something up because of that. They were co-workers, but they were also friends. Which relationship came first?

“Uh…” Ryley paused. He could practically see the loading screen in his brain. “So… I think both of you are prioritizing different things.”

Their stares softened just a bit. He was on the right track. Let’s see if his psychology 101 class he took four years ago could coast him through this.

“You, uh… Actually, what are your names?”

The woman pointed at herself. “Yu.” She pointed at the man. “Berkeley.”

“Well, okay. So, Berkeley is prioritizing your relationship as co-workers while Yu is prioritizing your relationship as friends. Neither of these are the right approach. There has to be balance.”

Yu and Berkeley turned to stare at each other.

He waited.

And waited…

Yu sighed, her entire body drooping like a wilted flower. “Yeah, you’re right. I forget doing these kinds of things can jeopardize your job. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Berkeley said with a shrug, “it’s a pretty boring job, especially for someone who’s trying to branch off to make their own company. I should’ve been more supportive.” He looked down, shuffling his feet. Ah, a classic move awkward teenage Ryley was all too familiar with.

“It’s alright. You’re a great friend otherwise.” Yu smiled and sheepishly held a hand out. “Friends?”

“Friends.” Still, Berkeley didn’t take the hand.

Yu’s face wrinkled into a glare. “Oh, to hell with you.”

“You as well.”

Seemed like they were getting along great. Ryley patted himself on the back for bullshitting his way through that one successfully and watched them finish their coffee together, a kind of fondness tugging at his heart. When they exited, the rest of his shift slowed into a dull, gray memory.

* * *

It was seven in the morning when Ryley decided Ozzy had had enough sleep and woke him up for his shift at the cafe. After a brief moment of nothing but curses from Ozzy as he slowly blinked the sleep away from his eyes, Ryley finally gathered the courage to ask about those two customers from last night.

Ozzy laughed (albeit his laughter muted from the fatigue of just being woken up by several obnoxious pokes to the stomach). “Oh, Yu and Berkeley. Nice folks. They work at the robotics company a few blocks down with Keen, who isn’t so nice. They do that a lot.”

Ryley blinked. “Should… Should I be alarmed?”

“Nah, that’s just how their friendship is.” He paused and furrowed his eyebrows. “But it’s strange. I always just left them to their own devices, and they would return as friends again. You said you helped them with their fight, right?”

“I guess. I don’t know how, though.”

“That’s good news. Keep it up, and you might end up actually having friends in your life,” Ozzy snickered. He patted Ryley on the shoulder as he climbed out of his bed. “Thanks for waking me up. You might wanna go to sleep now. You don’t look too hot, buddy.”

“I’m always hot.”

“Not really.”

Ouch. Still, Ryley bid him good luck on his shift before retreating to his own bedroom and immediately collapsing.

* * *

Day five of the night shift, and it seemed like things were only gonna get wackier when a redheaded woman walked in with an obviously uncomfortable man much younger than her in tow.

“Marguerit, you know full well it’s past my curfew,” the man hissed, though it seemed like more of a rough whisper than anything.

The woman, presumably Marguerit, snorted. “Yeah, sure. A nineteen year old still needs a curfew. Don’t worry, I can deal with him.”

“Without murder?”

“Let’s see.” Her stare fell on Ryley, and he immediately found his skin prickling. “Hey, kid, you new here?”

Ryley opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat like a thorn. He was far past being the quiet kid in school, but that didn’t mean he knew one thing about social interaction, especially with someone who looked like she could rip him in two without breaking a sweat. He settled for nodding instead.

“Ah, figures. Ozzy’s usually here.”

The man offered him a polite smile. “Please add cream and sugar to mine, no matter what Marguerit says.”

“Make his as bitter as me.”

“Please don’t.”

Ryley could only watch on in confusion as both Marguerit and the man held out money, only for the two to argue about who was going to pay. “Um… you know you can pay separately, right?”

That seemed to draw them out of the argument, if only for a moment. They both handed money to Ryley’s waiting hand before deciding to take a seat across from each other and having a conversation with more curse words than Ryley would’ve thought possible (mostly on the part of Marguerit. The other man didn’t look like he say “heck” without feeling guilty about it). 

The cafe was dragged into a lull after Ryley handed them their drinks. Their conversation seemed to revolve around a study the two were working on about a species of snakes living somewhere in the area (Why did this cafe attract so many smart people? Maybe it worked like a magnet; Ryley was probably dumb enough for that). The jargon was too complicated for him to understand, so he filtered out the conversation and wiped down the counter with a rag.

Then Marguerit stood up, turned on Ryley with blazing eyes, and said, “Hey, you! Would you rather pick a job you love or one that made your father happy?”

The man groaned and buried his face into his hands. “Marguerit, this really isn’t necessary.”

Ryley blinked and chose the most dumbass answer he could. “My father’s dead.”

The fury was extinguished from Marguerit’s eyes. She faltered. “... Oh. Well, in theory.”

Ryley looked back and forth between the two. Was this something he wanted to throw himself into? Was it a smart idea to get involved in this?

No, it wasn’t. The two were customers, and making the wrong decision would jeopardize the cafe’s business (Two customers were a lot when night shift didn’t see more than ten). But then again, when was the last time Ryley made a smart decision?

“One that pays the bills, first of all. That’s the entire reason I’m here.” He cleared his throat upon seeing both Marguerit and the man raise an eyebrow. “But I would go for the one I love.”

Marguerit whirled back on the man. “See? What did I tell you?”

The man sighed. “I’ll… I’ll think about it. I don’t want to cut all ties. My father raised me, after all.”

Ryley shrugged. “My opinion kind of doesn’t matter here, but that’s, like, the bare minimum of a parent’s job.”

“... You’re right, I suppose. Thank you. However, I stand by my decision to think before making rash decisions.” He offered him a smile before standing up from his chair. “I’m finished with my coffee. Shall we go?”

The two left, taking the life of the cafe with them.

Ryley wished the man luck and busied himself with cleaning the coffee machine. Even then, he couldn’t shake the worry from his head.

* * *

“Bart and Marguerit,” Ozzy mused when Ryley relayed the events of his shift to him. “Always give Bart what he wants. He tips nicely.”

Sharing breakfast had become a more regular occurrence now that Ryley had taken the night shift. Although the choice of food was still a problem (No, he didn't want to eat pancakes for dinner, _Ozzy),_ they were slowly compromising and figuring out which foods to put on their grocery list. Ozzy had won today with his choice of eggs and cubed potatoes he had prepped the previous day, Ryley looked forward to hearing Ozzy bitch and moan about having to help prepare an entire batch of pasta first thing in the morning.

Ryley frowned as he scrubbed egg bits off the pan. “Is he okay? Like, they were talking about some pretty heavy stuff back there…”

Ozzy shrugged. “Beats me. His dad’s CEO Torgal; any kind of shit could be going on.”

Okay, that made a lot more sense.

Wait a second.

Ryley froze, the pan dropping into the sink. Ozzy’s scolding and takeover of washing the dishes went unregistered. “That was Bart Torgal?”

“And Marguerit Maida.”

“The… The Torgal bodyguard?”

“Yup.”

It was no big deal, the Torgals were only one of the most influential families in politics and could probably buy the entire country over twice. And their bodyguard was only trained in countless weapons and had more battle experience than Ryley could even imagine.

Ryley made an incomprehensible noise.

Ozzy only laughed. “Yeah. My cafe attracts tons of weird shit. Must be why you work there.”

Despite his entire core being shaken and world being turned upside down, Ryley still had the sense to glare and flick water at Ozzy.

* * *

All the cups and mugs were washed. The counter and tables had been wiped down three times. The coffee machines were sparkling clean. Ryley had even taken it upon himself to set out the pans for Ozzy’s morning shift (Should he clean the ovens? He probably should). He checked the temperatures of the freezers, refrigerators, and heating equipment twice. He took inventory of the straws, napkins, and sugar packets. He texted Ozzy a reminder to order more napkins.

Ryley sighed and slumped over the counter.

He missed everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> self indulgent BS for my birthday lmao. Sorry.


End file.
